Well C’mon, 2012

NEW YEAR, NEW PARTY. — To welcome 2012, the squadron got together and did what we call a House Crawl. A House Crawl is, you guessed it, much like a bar crawl. Because we are housed in small stand-alone bungalows, each residence scrounged up a drink and food item to serve to the strangely zombie-like cluster of people. The commander’s house was first, and I was the first in line to get the party started (naturally). He served B-52 shots and crock pot pulled pork. I skipped out on the pork, but enjoyed the delicious nuclear nectar. In fact, our “vice-boss” was filling up shot glasses, but I was lucky enough to be well-prepared, bringing my own Brody Cup. That is one bigass shot glass.

The next few houses had everything from mojitos to boxed wine to champagne. For some reason, dudes think it’s funny to see other dudes dressed in “tuxedos” and little else. Why is it that when dudes get to a’partyin’, their clothes come off and the good games begin? No homo. Anyway, Amie made sangria and I made spanikopita and mini quiches… but by the time the party had made it past ten houses, there was little interest in food items or fancy foreign drinks. I rang in 2012 amidst a crowd, boxed wine in hand. I also gave everyone a quick 2012 peck, steering myself to prioritize the hunkier of the flyer gentlemen. I managed to avoid the camera most of the evening, but here is one shot of Amie and I before the festivities. My boobs were really smashed into that dress & I had to use an actual shoehorn to get them in there. Not a big deal.

SPIDEY SENSE. — Today I was pontificating the answer to life, the universe, everything and forty-two, when I noticed a totally random, small spider’s web string from the ceiling to the lamp. Here is what flashed inside my brain:

WISE WORDS. — And here is how I feel about what is going on for my life and career in the next few years. Thanks for your eloquence, Adolf Elizabeth Wonka. You are a bigger man than I. Well, obviously.

There’s no earthly way of knowing
Which direction they are going!
There’s no knowing where they’re rowing,
Or which way they river’s flowing!
Not a speck of light is showing,
So the danger must be growing,
For the rowers keep on rowing,
And they’re certainly not showing
Any signs that they are slowing…

RESOLUTION REVOLUTION. — …and the stereotypical New Year’s resolution is on! Six days working out in a row. I don’t want to be a fat American in Europe this summer. I’m a big numbers kind of gal (perfectionist & type A personality), so here are the latest:

Maybe some of you all are trying for something similar. I’m here to encourage and share!

ION. — In other news, I am now officially scuba certified, or a “Padi Open Water Diver”. The advanced class is looking pretty good too, which touches on night diving. Larry and I are looking to scuba in Capri, Italy next September (he’ll get certified in Minot) after our cruise ends in Rome. Also, I got to see a Green Sea Turtle on a reef! When we moved in for a better look, he looked a little grouchy, looked at us for a few moments, and then took off into the blue abyss. Here is a photo of the fancy, grouchy turtle! In the now, Friday I am dropping bombs on those poor Farallon Islands again to the north, raining down actual pieces of America and bald eagle tears with Devin. Also, another important guy (a colonel) will be aboard to see how we do things on bombers. Amer’ca!

Lastly, I got a call sign – Chanel. Basically, I sprayed the commander with perfume when we flew together, because everyone smells bad on the B-52. I always carry hand sanitizer and perfume on the jet, to make it a more civilized place. I guess a few of the pilots summed it up best when they experienced the smell wafting upstairs to them, “If she keeps spraying that perfume, I don’t mind flying with her anytime!” Sure beats fifty years of farts, pee and vomit this aircraft has sustained! Thus, Chanel was born. Suits me fine, especially because I’ve always worn Chanel’s “Chance” and “Allure” exclusively… as well as their makeup. It works.